“What’s the plan for the day?”
“A local guy suggested a little breakfast place a few blocks over. We can walk there and back. If you aren’t limping by the time we get back, we’ll hit the building’s gym. With your funky knee, I figure taking you for a long walk or run might mean I’ll end up carrying you back here. Not that I mind doing a little weight training during my runs.”
“Funny guy,” I muttered, giving him a grin. “My knee is fine.”
“Don’t push yourself to impress me. There’s more than one treadmill in the gym, so we can go our own speeds. That way, you won’t get hurt and I’ll still have something pretty to look at.”
A death wish level of confidence came over me, making the words to tempting to say. “You were possessive at the barbecue. Was it really all for show?”
Saint’s expression never changed, though I felt a shift in his demeanor. “No,” he said in a low voice that should have scared the crap out of me.
“Do you have a woman somewhere? Or women?”
“I told you about my birthday thing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Saint gave me a big grin. “Ah, to be young and stupid. I miss those days.”
“Did you just call me stupid?” I balked.
“You know I did.”
Even wanting to be pissed, I laughed. “I never know what the hell you’re going to say.”
“Welcome to the club,” he said, sitting forward. “I’m about to say something that you need to be cool about. Grown up time, okay?”
My smile gone, I nodded.
“I don’t date. I don’t have friends. I don’t get lonely. Maybe it’s an only child thing, but I could live a long happy live by myself,” he said, setting down his coffee on the table. “You do something to me though. So when I got possessive, it’s because I’ll rip off the limbs of anyone who makes a move on you. In this place at this time, you belong to me and no one else is allowed to touch my things. Blame that on me being an only child, if you want. It is what it is.”
Saint stood up and carried his cup to the sink where he washed it. I finished mine and joined him.
“I feel really special knowing I’m one of your things, but was there a point to your speech?” I asked dismissively, even as my stomach twisted at the idea him thinking I was special.
“No, not really. Just felt like sharing my feelings,” he said, caressing my cheek. “You ready for breakfast?”
“No,” I mumbled, my skin flushing under his touch. “Or yes. Whatever.”
Saint smiled in a way that pissed me off. I hated that cocky male grin even when I saw it on a man as sexy as him.
“Eat shit,” I growled, storming to the living room where my tennis shoes sat under a table. “You’re not special.”
“Never said I was.”
“You’re not my type either,” I said, turning to find him right behind me.
“What’s your type again? Still aroused by pasty white guys with big mustaches?”
His expression was obnoxious like he could barely keep from laughing in my face. I wanted to hate him, but the bastard was making me want to laugh too.
“We’re not so different. I mean I like high maintenance men,” I said, heading for the door. “Guys who wear lots of crap in their hair and like to dress up.”
Shutting the door behind us as we walked into the hall, Saint said, “I wore a bowtie once.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty five or six. Can’t remember.”
Laughing, I rolled my eyes. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not,” he said, following me into the elevator. “I was playing the roll of an intellectual.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and the bowtie made me look like a schmuck, so I was able to walk right past the guards. It was one of my better days.”
Thinking of him decked out like a nerd, I laughed behind my hand. “Do you think I could go into that work?”
His smile fading immediately, Saint cupped my cheek with his wide hand. “I could train you to do it, but I refuse to help you destroy your soul.”
My hand instinctively rested over his. A moment passed while I was sure Saint would kiss me. His dark eyes studied my face. Would he lean down and press his lips against mine? My body ached to know what he felt like. What he tasted like too. I wanted to know so badly that I didn’t think to panic.
Saint didn’t kiss me though. Once the doors to the elevator opened on the main floor, he removed his hand and pulled away his hungry gaze. We walked together to the restaurant without saying another word.
Chapter Sixteen ~ Saint
Harlow sulked as we waited for our breakfast. She likely didn’t realize she was sulking, but her face was a mask of unhappiness. Leaning back, I studied her while she sipped her milk. Her attraction to me was pissing her off. Arousal wasn’t something a broken girl like her would appreciate.